


Who am I?

by wilhelms



Category: Unsere Mütter unsere Väter | Generation War
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 05:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15112757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilhelms/pseuds/wilhelms
Summary: AU: 1961, the Berlin Wall has been built, an American-German journalist is sent to report on the historical event. Frank Winter has to face his past and his consciousness.





	Who am I?

**Author's Note:**

> Dear reader, allow me to thank you for giving my little work a chance. I hope you will enjoy it!   
> Excuse all my mistakes, grammatical or stylistic as I´m not a native speaker. The idea once came to me when I was writing a small oneshot on my tumblr account (uglierthanyou).   
> There might be additional chapters.

He watched his face in the mirror. How much older he looked! He was just twenty when the war ended and now there was this 41 years old man with some extra grey hair. He tried to smile at himself, half of his face covered in shaving cream. He titled his head from one side to another, not noticing someone was watching him. It was his dearest hobby to watch his father. Viktor was hiding behind the wall, not sure whether his father did or didn´t notice him and was now simply playing the game. Viktor was a ten years old boy, small like his father with the same blue eyes. The boy was raised by his father alone, his mother and Friedhelm´s American wife left when the boy was 2 and while there were some "daddy´s friends" it was hard to really give someone a chance. If it was not for the one beautiful mistake and for the love for another man, Friedhlem was sure he would never get married or become a father. He strictly believed he was not "cut out for this". Apparently, he was. 

After years of doing whatever job he could get (after all, he was a German, he was the Evilness of this world, he was supposed to crawl, lick everyone´s shoes or ass, be grateful that he was breathing, that he was not killed and he could think about many names they have given him when he first landed on American soil.) He finally found a job in the newspaper. He was writing necrologies and composing good adverts and sometimes, sometimes he was given a chance to write something more, that something more concerned Germany. After the American-German relations eased up a little and people started to move on with their lives, he wrote about the German economy and the heroism of the American citizens in Germany, saving the country from its ashes and building a new empire, American-friendly of course. 

So far overseas, no one was really sure what was really happening in Europe. While Europe was being slowly rebuilt (for better or for worse), America was enjoying Elvis Presley and the new wave of rock and roll and Coca Cola. Frank as he called himself now enjoyed his little pathetic monotone life as everyone else, slowly he was becoming more and more American. Strictly, he forbade himself to speak German and now his German accent was hard to detect. He changed his name to sound more American and he would never ever read Hesse again. Frank Winter was a new man living his American dream when once the chief journalist told him an exciting news. The Russians were building a wall. No one could believe it, first days many laughed, some shook their heads but no one really understood the seriousness of it. This was not some silly border that would easy to cross, this was a wall, the final sign of separation of people, ideology and the country. But now, in the first days of August and as the continuation of the wall was not stopped, no one was laughing and Frank was told to pack his things and go to Berlin. There was no point in arguing, it was either "you go there" or "you can go home and never come back" matter. Frank chose the first option. 

You would be surprised how quickly one grown up and one child can pack things once they are threatened with the idea of being jobless and homeless. In two days they were flying to Berlin. Frank knew what his job was and he knew many people would be excited to be in his place, their pens ready and their papers prepared to note every single detail, they would itch their palms and rub their fingers with excitement but Frank was not afraid that he would not produce a good work, he was afraid of what or who will he see in Berlin. All these years of avoiding his past, he never dared to think what happened to his parents, his brother, his friends. But now when he was back here, should he try to find them? Was it worth opening the old wounds?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, opinions or just a hello note are welcome!


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